


hide n seek

by galpalaven



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Canon Rewrite, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Trapped In A Closet, also FINALLY!! I WROTE SOMETHING!!!, i guess pasha really needs some new content on here huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18865777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galpalaven/pseuds/galpalaven
Summary: "Ohhh, noooo, what a tragedy. Locked in a closet with the cutest magician in the city. Whateverwill we do?"Foster and Portia getcozy:3c





	hide n seek

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wardenchampion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardenchampion/gifts).



_“The night patrol! Quick, let’s hide in that closet!”_

Portia starts tugging him towards an unobtrusive door a little ways down the hall, almost indistinguishable from the wallpaper around it. He stumbles after her, before hesitating a little, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows as he realizes what seems off about this.

There’s no rule against walking around at night, is there? They won’t get in trouble.

“Wait, why are we hiding?”

Portia giggles, pulling harder on his arm and winking at him as she says, “Because! It’s more fun this way. C’mon! Before they catch us!”

Well. Alright.

Foster follows right behind her, letting her pull him in after her as she ducks into the closet, and she closes the door behind them.

The closet itself is even smaller than it looks from the outside—tiny, cramped, and crowded with cleaning supplies. He supposes it’d have been too much to hope for to find a closet that wasn’t as crowded, though this one is so small that it was clearly not even meant to hold a single person, let alone two. His broad shoulders brush against both the back wall and the door with every quiet breath he takes.

Portia hisses after a beat, grumbling, as she mumbles, “Hang on, something’s digging into my back…”

She shifts, jostling him a little as she adjusts a broom that was behind her.

“There! Comfy, Foster?”

He smiles a little at how bright her voice is, even as a whisper, as she beams up at him, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. He opens his mouth to respond, but she raises a finger to her lips instead, making a quiet shushing sound as the voices of the guards get closer, and for a moment, Foster finds himself mesmerized by the way the light from the hallway falls across her face, catching on the bright blue of one of her eyes brilliantly.

“Now,” she breathes, “we have to be quiet. Very, very quiet…”

The guards are closer now, and though the sound is muffled a little, Foster can make out most of what they’re saying.

“—just saying, Paloma’s pumpkin bread is the best.”

“She puts _raisins_ in it.”

Portia makes a face, scrunching up her pretty features like she’s just bitten into something sour. “Raisins? Ugh, Bludmila, _why_?”

A surprised laugh threatens to bubble up and out of Foster’s chest, and he has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. She sounds so _offended_.

She puts a finger to _his_ lips this time, grinning, and whatever laughter that had been trying to get out dies in his throat. His cheeks feel hot, and his breath is coming a little shallower, even as he makes a face back at her, scrunching his nose and grinning when her lips tremble with barely restrained laughter. She nudges him gently, poking at his chest, but when he nudges her back, she has to clap a hand over her mouth to hold back the noise she makes.

Foster blinks.

Was that… a _squeak_?

Grin widening slowly, he tilts his head as he asks on a murmur, “Are you ticklish?”

She just raises an eyebrow at him, smirking, and with a wink she says, “Why don’t you try and find out?”

He blinks again, surprised, as she adds, “But I’m warning you… if you break the tickle embargo, I get to tickle you back!”

Foster bites at his lower lip again, still fighting the urge to laugh. Portia has no _idea_ what she’s getting herself into—he’s a baby sibling, too, and he’s never in his life been one to back down from a tickle fight.

“Do your worst,” he tells her a split second before he goes on the attack, fingers brushing over her sides.

Portia tries to smother a giggle, twisting in his grip, but it just comes out as a snort that she muffles with one of her hands.

“Ooh, you’re _on_ ~!” she whisper-yells.

She’s quick to counterattack, her fingers finding spots he hadn’t even remembered were ticklish faster than he can react. Luckily, years of being the baby brother had prepared him for this very moment, and though he knocks his elbow into the back of the closet, he does manage to catch Portia’s wrists as she moves in for the kill.

“Did you hear something?”

They freeze, staring wide-eyed at each other, breathing heavily in the dark. They’re closer now than they had been a moment ago, and his heart nearly skips a beat as he grips her hands in his.

“Jumping at ghosts again, Ludo?”

“What? No! I just thought… never mind. Let’s keep going.”

Foster and Portia don’t move for another moment, waiting for the voices and footsteps to gradually fade a the guards move on—not that he can really find it in him to want to move away just yet. He’s quite happy to stand like this the rest of the night if she wants, even if there is a broom digging into his shoulder blade right now.

The silence is finally broken when Portia snorts, burying her face against his shirt, unable to hold back her amusement any longer. Her delighted laughter fills the small space around them, and he drops his grip on her hands to touch her upper arms as she laughs against him, shaking her head as her shoulders shake with mirth.

“What’d I say, huh?” she says finally, as her laughter starts to subside. She sighs contentedly, tilting her head back to look up at him with a soft look on her face. “I told you this’d be fun!”

Her hands are still resting on his chest as she speaks, and as they smile at each other, she picks at a loose thread on his shirt, dropping her gaze almost bashfully.

“Foster…” she says softly, and his stomach flips excitedly at the sound of his name. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.” She keeps her eyes on her hands as she talks, and even though it’s kind of dark, he can see her smiling softly to herself. “I have to admit, when I went to your room, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen…”

Her smile brightens suddenly, and she looks up at him again as she says, “I’m glad I decided to trust you.”

Foster grins back at her, nodding as he mumbles, “The pleasure was all mine. I’m… glad to be here with you, too.”

She bites at her lip, and he’s not sure if he’s seeing things, but he’s pretty sure her cheeks look a little darker as she drops her gaze back to her hands on his chest. He wonders distantly if she can feel his heart racing just under her fingertips, as it thumps out an uneven rhythm at her closeness. She’s even prettier up close, and—

—Foster’s eyes catch on a piece of hair caught on her lip and, before he can think about it, he reaches up and gently brushes it away.

Portia blinks up at him, surprise clear in her eyes, as his fingers linger against her cheek.

He’s not sure what’s come over him, because he’s not usually so bold, but… something about the dark of the closet, the lightness lingering in his chest, her _closeness…_

When Foster’s eyes dart back to hers ( _when did he look away?_ ) Portia meets his gaze calmly for a moment before slowly, deliberately, dropping her eyes to his mouth.

Her lips are parted now, when she flicks her gaze back to his, and her hands on his chest start to slide upwards, towards his collar. Portia presses up on her toes, just as he finds himself leaning down to meet her, the two of them drawn together as if by a pulled thread. She grabs gently at his collar, tugging him ever closer, and he can feel her hot breath as it washes over his skin, and—

THWACK.

Foster flinches, wincing, as one of the bigger broomsticks finally falls from where it had been jostled during their tickle fight and smacks him in the back of the head.

The moment is broken, as Portia drops back to the flats of her feet, chuckling a little, and she sounds a dazed as she says, “Oops. This closet really isn’t the best place for this, huh?”

Foster laughs, too, shrugging as much as he can in the limited space. “I mean… it’s not so bad. If it was just a bit bigger…”

Portia giggles, winking at him as she goes to open the door, both of them still blushing a little. Her face falls almost immediately, though, shoulders drooping.

“Uh oh.”

The handle won’t budge.

“Well, uh… this wasn’t part of the plan,” she says, sounding apologetic as she looks back up at him.

After a beat, her eyes drop back to his lips, and she laughs a little, shaking her head.

“Ohhh, nooo, what a tragedy,” she swoons, sarcasm dripping from every word as she cuddles right back up to him. She reaches for his collar again, grinning, as she presses up on her tiptoes again and adds, “Locked in a closet with the cutest magician in the city. What _ever_ will we do?”

Foster laughs, letting her pull him in, bringing his hands up to rest on her hips because _what the hell_ , when—

“Peep!”

Portia stops again, dropping back down to flat feet with a quiet, “Oh! Is that…?”

With a quiet _click_ , the door swings open.

As Foster frowns, blinking at the sudden change in brightness, Portia turns in his arms, laughing a little at what she finds. Pepi is sitting just outside, her tail flicking happily, and Portia breaks away from him fully to bend down and scratch her ear.

 _Well_ , he thinks. _I guess that’s that._

“Good work, Pepi! Ohhh, you’re so talented, aren’t you? Opening doors for us!” she coos.

The cat purrs, and then turns her attention to Foster as he steps out of the closet, swishing around his ankles and headbutting his calf once, before she scampers off again. Portia watches her go for a moment, before turning back to him, and smiling a little at the look on his face.

“Don’t worry, Foster,” she says brightly, winking when he blinks down at her, startled. “We’ll have plenty more chances to hide away together.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, trying his best to pretend that his cheeks aren’t burning. He rubs at the back of his neck, suddenly bashful, and says, “Well, I sure hope so.”

Portia laughs, reaching out to link her arm through his so that they can continue their exploration. “I promise, if we don’t find any more chances, I’ll just make some up. Just like tonight.”

He laughs. “Maybe next time we can hide away in a nicer broom closet…”

Portia buries her face in his arm, giggling, as she nods.

“Definitely.”

As they continue down the hallway, looking for ghosts, Foster threads his fingers through Portia’s, smiling when she just squeezes his hand and swings their arms a little. He runs his other hand through his hair again just to hide his blush, though he steals another glance out of the corner of his eye as they walk.

He really does like her.

Hopefully they really can do that again some time.

And _hopefully_ there won’t be any interruptions next time.

**Author's Note:**

> an extended closet scene because i thought they rly dropped the ball and missed out on a chance for some GOOD GOOD TROPES
> 
> foster is [@wardenchampion](http://wardenchampion.tumblr.com)'s very good boy ;w;


End file.
